


TJ Kippen Is [INSERT HERE]

by mrtheparty



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, MAYBE? its following canon so probably, Slow Burn, follows canon events, shoutout to egg for helping me again i love u bro, the first couple of chapters will be canon based but after that itll be original!, why is thinking of a title the hardest part about fic writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-10-18 07:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17576336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrtheparty/pseuds/mrtheparty
Summary: Up until the Muffin Encounter, Cyrus only knew three things about TJ Kippen;1.       TJ Kippen is mean,2.       TJ Kippen is a bully,3.       TJ Kippen is unfairly attractive.





	1. #1, #2, #3, #4

**Author's Note:**

> i have this chapter and the next written out and because theyre just rewrites of canon scenes im gonna try no to focus on them too much, but after that we should get into the original stuff B)

Up until the Muffin Encounter, Cyrus only knew three things about TJ Kippen;

_1\. TJ Kippen is mean,_

_2\. TJ Kippen is a bully,_

_3\. TJ Kippen is unfairly attractive._

Not in the way that Jonah was cute, but TJ was tall and toned and _blonde._ Unfortunately, he was also a massive dickhead – which Cyrus would never say out loud, he didn’t _swear_ – and that fact negated any pretty facial features TJ happened to have.

Beyond wishing TJ would lay off Buffy, Cyrus didn’t necessarily have any deep thoughts or opinions on him. When TJ approached Buffy in the cafeteria Cyrus stepped back, carefully out of the splash zone between the two as they argued. Cyrus had never seen TJ up close, and it was interesting to see how he only seemed to sport two expressions; bored, or annoyed. It was an ingrained habit of his, with four psychologists for parents, to want to read people, learn their motivations. It was a bad habit.

Cyrus wasn’t really listening, more watching the two clash – TJ aggressively, and Buffy (equally aggressive) shutting him down. He tuned out their words, seeing how TJ scowled and huffed and smiled bitterly for about two seconds in scorn of something she said. He got up in her face, cocking his eyebrows in emphasis or frustration or –

“- You’ll get my friend Cyrus here a _chocolate chocolate-chip muffin._ Then, we have a deal.”

TJ seemed to notice Cyrus for the first time.

He cocked his eyebrows again, this time in a scoff – or maybe disbelief?

“You can’t get your own muffin?’

Cyrus turned to Buffy, “I didn’t need this extra level of embarrassment.” He turned to TJ, “… But no.”

TJ looked around, shrugging. Was he amused? No, Cyrus must be reading him wrong.

“Well, I can do it, but…” TJ looked Cyrus in the eye. His eyes were green, that was a surprise. Oh, and look at that, TJ was smiling. “Teach a man to fish...?”

Cyrus smiled back out of pure instinct and TJ’s hand came down to rest on his shoulder but before he had time to panic over this physical contact with a cute, mean boy who was now very close to him, Cyrus turned his attention to what said cute, mean boy was saying.

TJ pointed over to the counter where the last muffin sat on a dish. “Walk to the muffin like you already own it.”

“He can’t do that,” Buffy said.

TJ frowned, letting go of Cyrus and turning back to her, “Don’t tell him what he can’t do.”

“Dancing with danger _is_ on my bucket list!” Cyrus interjected before they could start arguing again. “Then what do I do?”

TJ smiled and shrugged – he did that a lot, surprisingly. “Take the muffin.”

“That’s it?”

“Just don’t let _anybody_ stand in your way.”

Buffy was still looking at the both of them like they were insane, but Cyrus steeled himself – all 5 feet 3 inches of sweaters, button up shirts, and innocuous dinosaur knowledge – and walked forward (and if TJ shoved him forward a bit, well that was no one’s business).

He reached for the muffin, “Mind if I, uh…” and all the kids in the queue next to him immediately yelled at him. On instinct and to ensure no 6th grader mob would swarm him today, he withdrew his hand.

And then there was TJ. Brushing shoulders, standing next to Cyrus.

“He’s with me.”

The kids in the line averted their eyes. No sixth grader wanted to deal with TJ Kippen, even on a matter as serious as the last chocolate chocolate-chip muffin. TJ turned back to Cyrus and jerked his head to the muffin. With another wary look to the line of middle schoolers, Cyrus grabbed it.

“…You are gonna taste so sweet.”

TJ huffed another laugh, before turning back to Buffy. His smile reverted back into a scornful arrogance.

“I’ll need at least a C plus,” and TJ walked off, leaving Cyrus happy, Buffy annoyed, and a line full of frustrated 13-year-olds.

Huh. TJ Kippen was mean, and a bully, and seemed to have a habit of antagonising anyone who was on the same level as him, but he also smiled at Cyrus genuinely. A stark contrast from the way he smiled at Buffy – full of bitterness and spite.

 _Huh._ Cyrus updated his mental list.

_1\. TJ Kippen is mean,_

_2\. TJ Kippen is a bully,_

_3\. TJ Kippen is unfairly attractive,_

_4\. TJ Kippen has green eyes._


	2. #5, #6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay im just posting this now bcs why not, idk when the next chapter will be out but :shrugs: hopefully within a few days!

Cyrus kicked his legs under him, propelling the swing. The sun was warm on his back, which would normally be pleasant but after the fiasco with Jonah his skin felt sticky and unclean. The combined pressure from wanting to impress Jonah, wanting to do well on those videos for Metcalf, and just the general unease from being in front of the camera left him to panic – even after he calmed down, the stress and embarrassment from the situation led him to seek out his comfort spot.

“Legs go up, legs go down, that’s how we make the swing go ‘round. Drag your feet, you go slow, the more you drag the less you go.”

The only other people on the playground were a handful of kids, being monitored by their gossiping mothers. Which was why it came as a surprise to hear a teenager’s voice behind him.

“Nice song.”

Cyrus stopped swinging.

He hadn’t seen TJ since he had helped Cyrus with the muffin, much less talked to him. Cyrus had assumed that it would have been a one-time event.

“What do you sing when you’re on the slide?”

TJ had one eyebrow cocked and one hand resting on the supports of the swing set. Cyrus wasn’t sure if this TJ would decide to be nice or not.

“We go down, we say ‘yay’, we don’t climb up, that’s the wrong way.”

“Huh,” TJ cocked his head. He had a small smile on his face, “Did not expect you to have a song for that.”

Cyrus thought this might be Nice TJ.

TJ looked him in the eye. The colour seemed emphasised in the afternoon sunlight, and Cyrus imagined if he were to inspect closer, he might find flecks of gold and hazel in there.

“Chocolate chocolate-chip muffin, right?” TJ gestured to Cyrus.

“Scary Basketball Guy,” Cyrus gestured to TJ.

TJ looked away, with an air of disappointment. Somehow, Cyrus felt like it wasn’t directed at him. “Actually, TJ.”

“I know,” Cyrus gestured to himself, “Cyrus.”

TJ looked around, taking in their surroundings and crossed to the other swing.

“So, you… hang out here a lot?”

“Only when I’m feeling bad about myself. So, fairly often.”

TJ hummed, “Does it help?”

“It helps me.”

TJ seemed to be thinking about something, so Cyrus gestured to the swing.

“Go on, you look like you need it.”

TJ sat down with one last cocked eyebrow at Cyrus and kicked off, Cyrus copying a second later. He was swinging higher than Cyrus ever felt comfortable with, but within a matter of seconds he had a bright grin on his face and laughed.

“Wow, this does kinda make me feel better!”

“What do you need to feel better about? You’re the captain of the basketball team!”

TJ huffed, but he wasn’t frowning, “You don’t know me. I got stuff.”

Cyrus’ lips twitched in a smile, “Betcha I got more stuff.”

“Oh, yeah?” TJ sent him an appraising look, “Betcha I can swing higher.”

“I… am afraid to swing higher. That’s part of my stuff.”

TJ laughed and whooped as he swung to be on height with the support beams of the swing set.

“I don’t know why I ever stopped swingin’! C’mon, get up here.”

 _“This_ is as up as I go.”

TJ grinned again and jumped off the swing with one last whoop. He walked around behind  
Cyrus and before Cyrus could realise what was happening, TJ started pushing him.

Cyrus could hear the smile on his face as TJ yelled “Underdog!” and ran underneath him while Cyrus screamed. Before he could majorly panic, TJ was already standing in front of him with a smile – Cyrus couldn’t help but smile too.

“Whoa – that was exhilarating!”

“You want another one?”

_“No, thank you.”_

TJ pouted cutely, grinning again, “Too bad!”

They kept playing around like this, TJ laughing, and Cyrus caught between yelping or whooping as he was pushed – he wasn’t genuinely afraid, just slightly out of his comfort zone. It was fun. Cyrus was having fun. With TJ Kippen.

“Cyrus! You okay?”

TJ’s face dropped and he started backing away. He gestured over his shoulder, “I– I gotta go,” as Buffy was jogging towards them.

Cyrus hopped off the swing and stopped him.

“No– TJ you don’t have to… Buffy, she’s really cool – “

“Yeah, no. But… thanks for reminding me about swinging. That helped.” He seemed to smile a lot around Cyrus, he noted.

Buffy caught up to them and TJ went to grab his backpack again. “I’m out.”

“Hold up a sec!”

TJ stopped. TJ turned around. TJ wasn’t smiling.

“Did you get my text?” Buffy asked,

TJ didn’t look at her, but he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Yeah,” he said shortly. No amount of scorn was lost in his words.

“Cyrus,” Buffy turned to him, “Can you give us the playground?”

“Yeah, you know where to find me,” he turned to TJ, “…And so do you.”

TJ’s lips twitched in a half smile, before Cyrus left.

He tuned out any words they spoke as he walked away – not his business, not his place, not his information to know. As Cyrus walked, he couldn’t help but update his mental list;

_1\. TJ Kippen is mean,_

_2\. TJ Kippen is a bully,_

_3\. TJ Kippen is unfairly attractive,_

_4\. TJ Kippen has green eyes,_

_5\. TJ Kippen can be nice when he wants to be,_

_6\. TJ Kippen has a nice laugh._


	3. #7, #8, #9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyrus privately considered the idea that no jock should be allowed to look that comfortable in formal wear – they’d leave no clothes for the rest of the population.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay!! this chapter is based on the bar mitzvah but its not a transcript this time so its All My Own Stuff Hell Yeah

It went on like this. As Cyrus learned more and more about TJ, he found himself continuously updating the list.

On the Friday before his Bar Mitzvah, when Cyrus called out, “Hey, Not-So-Scary Basketball Guy!” and got a pleased “Hey, Underdog!” with an easy smile in return, he felt it appropriate to add

_7\. TJ Kippen likes nicknames._

* * *

At Cyrus’ Bash Mitzvah, between all the Jonah Drama, Buffy’s stress regarding the fortune teller, Andi’s new boy, and basking in the attention everyone was laying on him, Cyrus didn’t find a chance to talk to TJ until later in the day.

Under the red, purple, and blue lights, Cyrus left the dance floor, already feeling the toll on his feet, to head to the drinks table. If he wasn’t so dedicated to upholding the Look the suit gave him, he may have ditched the jacket, but even through the heat from dancing he refused. A decision Cyrus was happy for a second later, when TJ appeared at his shoulder.

“Nice suit.”

“TJ! You’re looking pretty good yourself,” Cyrus stopped, short circuited, _you don’t say that to a straight guy,_ but TJ just laughed.

“You think? I guess great minds think alike,” TJ gestured to his own blue suit before gesturing to Cyrus’. Cyrus grinned and twirled in place.

“You like it? Jonah helped me pick it out.”

TJ had on one of those gentle smiles as he looked at Cyrus, “It really does look good, Underdog.”

“Thanks, TJ. Where have you been this whole time? I’ve barely seen you since you got here!” Cyrus ignored the heat in his cheeks in favour of searching for a bottle of apple cider in the drink cooler.

TJ pointed a thumb over his shoulder to where the doors were open to the outside activities, causing sunlight to spill onto the floor over there. It felt so much later in the day than it was, after spending so long indoors.

“Been outside. Went to the fortune teller and talked to that caricature dude for a bit,” TJ shrugged, “Andi’s – that is her name, right? – family were going hard on the dance machine.”

Cyrus snickered, finally locating the bottle between all the sodas, “They don’t seem like they would be competitive, do they? You should see their nightly trivia games – it gets _brutal.”_

TJ smiled right along with him, turning to lean against the table, hands in his pockets. The very image of easy beauty, from his perfect hair to his midnight blue suit. Cyrus privately considered the idea that no jock should be allowed to look that comfortable in formal wear – they’d leave no clothes for the rest of the population.

“Oh, have you been out on the dance floor?” Cyrus asked, hands busy trying to open the lid on the bottle – were they always this difficult? – and TJ eyed him.

“Pfft, unlike you, Mr. Makes-Up-A-Dance-Routine-On-The-Spot, we can’t all be good at dancing,” TJ responded, not unkindly. He was still smiling, so Cyrus took that to mean he was joking.

“Ooh, a new nickname? It’s a bit lengthy for conversation,” he smiled, “But the only reason I could do that is because I was with Buffy and Andi. Normally I wouldn’t dare go on a dance floor like that,” Cyrus looked TJ pointedly in the eye with a lopsided grin, “But being around friends makes it easier.”

TJ looked at him, and then breathed a laugh and looked away, out across the room, “Maybe later, Underdog.”

Cyrus followed TJ’s gaze – it caught on Buffy, leaving the dance floor to head for the dessert table. _Huh._ He hoped that didn’t mean what he thought it did.

TJ spoke with his eyes still following Buffy, “Look, I need to –“ TJ looked at Cyrus. He looked at his hands still straining to twist the top off. He huffed a laugh and gestured for the bottle.

Cyrus pouted but handed it over. TJ had nice hands. He hadn’t noticed before, but his fingers were long and slender, and his knuckles weren’t knobbly or out of proportion. His nails also looked smooth and well cared for – Cyrus couldn’t help but imagine TJ sitting in a salon, gossiping with the nail technician. Now _that_ was a mental image he wouldn’t lose for a while.

While Cyrus smothered a laugh at his own imagination, TJ gave one solid half-twist to the lid and handed the bottle back to Cyrus.

“Try that,” TJ said softly to him. For being so angry and aggressive, it amazed Cyrus how sweet and gentle TJ could be.

Cyrus gave it a tentative twist and the lid turned easily. With an appreciative glance at TJ, he grinned and took a drink of the cider.

“Hey, you did it!” TJ winked and Cyrus’ ears burned.

“Well, now that I’ve had a breather, I’m gonna go back on the dance floor, you sure you don’t wanna come too?”

“Actually, I’ve got to catch up with Buffy for something, but maybe later?”

“Sure, just come find me.”

TJ grinned and stood from where he had been leaning on the table, reaching over to ruffle Cyrus’ hair, before walking off.

“Hey!”

“I’ll catch you later, Underdog.”

* * *

Hours later, the party was dying down; the sky outside was rapidly darkening after the last slivers of sunlight and Cyrus was standing with Andi and Buffy inside the hall. Cyrus was lazily watching his remaining relatives joke awkwardly with each other. It was always interesting seeing all four sides in one room.

TJ jogged in from outside, quickly zeroing in on Cyrus and waving him over. He looked stressed. 

Cyrus smiled quizzically and headed over to TJ, excusing himself from Andi and Buffy - who weren’t really paying attention to him, anyway.

“TJ, what’s up?”

“Uh, right, your - your parents are all psychologists, right?” he brushed a hand through his hair, looking back and forth around the room. 

“Yep, all four of them - are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, just, uh… could you grab one of them?” He tossed a worried glance outside, so Cyrus called over his dad.

“Sweet, thank you Cyrus.” TJ patted him on the shoulder, before leaving to meet Norman. Cyrus couldn’t hear what the two said, and logically knew it wasn’t any of his business so he forced himself to head back to Buffy and Andi. With one last glance over his shoulder, he watched TJ lead Norman out through the double doors hurriedly. It wasn’t until a few moments later that he realised TJ had called him by his name for the first time.

* * *

Ten minutes later, TJ walked back into the hall, still looking decidedly stressed but much less worried. Cyrus headed over to him as soon as he spotted him.

“What was that? Are you okay? _Is someone dying?”_

TJ breathed a laugh, leaning over to place a hand on Cyrus’ head. It worked to calm him down, at least, which Cyrus assumed was his intention in the first place. “I’m fine, J-” TJ stopped himself and restarted, “Someone just looked like they needed help, so I came to grab one of your parents and then Norman asked me to help by grabbing a glass of water and stuff. It should all be alright now.”

Cyrus deflated.

“I’m glad everything’s okay. You can’t tell me what happened?”

“It’s not my place, sorry,” TJ looked genuinely apologetic, his mouth twisting. Then he nudged Cyrus and said with a wink, “Plus, your dad would probably kill me. He tried to give me a lecture on confidentiality before I left.”

Cyrus just groaned, “Imagine being me, I hear that at least once a day!”

TJ snickered but whatever he was going to say in return was interrupted by his phone getting a notification in his pocket. He hummed, frowning, “That’s probably my mom.” TJ dug his phone of his pocket and nodded, confirming his assumption. “I gotta go, dude.”

“That’s fine, I’ll see you on Monday. Tell her I say ‘hi’, yeah?”

“Oh, what’s this? Underdog, are you just using me to get to my mother?”

“Obviously, she actually has a car.”

TJ faked a scandalous expression, but then his phone buzzed again.

“Okay, I actually gotta go.”

Cyrus smiled at him and was going to walk him out, but one of his aunt’s called him over to the dessert table.

“Cyrus, come help us pack up!”

He sighed, “I should get to that.”

“No worries, man. I’ll see you later,” TJ turned and took a step before stopping and looking back at Cyrus again, “Wait, actually, I just realised I don’t have your number.”

Cyrus blinked - _when was the last time someone actually wanted his number?_ \- but then smiled brilliantly.

“You’re right, that completely slipped my mind,” Cyrus dug his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and pulled up his contacts, “We’ll do a trade!”

“Sweet,” TJ held out his own phone and the two switched, filling in their information. Cyrus hummed for a second, before deciding _screw it,_ and pulled up the contact camera. He struck a quick pose and smiled at the camera, before saving it. When he looked up, TJ was eyeing him with a small smile.

“What? Gotta make sure you know it’s me!”

TJ just snickered and said, “I don’t think there’s any danger of me forgetting that, Underdog.”

Cyrus went to hand TJ his phone back, but TJ slung an arm around his shoulders and held up Cyrus’ phone in a selfie. Cyrus remembered to smile at the last second, thoroughly distracted by the weight on his shoulders, but TJ smiled at the photo and handed the phone back to him.

Cyrus’ aunt was getting impatient and called for him again, so Cyrus gestured away behind him and said, “I’ll see you later, TJ! Feel free to text me if you need anything.”

“Sure, I’ll see you later, man.” TJ turned with one last smile and headed for the doors.

Cyrus spent a moment looking after him, before his aunt yelled for him one last time and he resigned himself to helping the clean up.

* * *

Hours later, when Cyrus was home and coming down from the high of the party he realised – in all the drama of the day, he never got to dance with TJ. He pouted to himself and decided to add a new note;

_8\. TJ Kippen knows when to mind his own business._

Cyrus stopped again and recounted the other events of the day before adding one more;

_9\. TJ Kippen has nice hands._


	4. #10, #11, #12, #13, #14, #15, #16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stood, and extended a hand. “Come on, dude. _Pancakes._ ” Cyrus waggled his eyebrows enticingly, and TJ huffed with a small laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the longest chapter ive ever WRITTEN i just didnt wanna leave it off at a weird place and it just kept flowing so i just kept writing... also this is unedited bcs my friend is away for a while.. shoutout to egg i love u i hope u like this chapter :3
> 
> NOTE!! the school year restarts for me the day after tmrw so updates will slow down!! im in senior year im gonna die. 
> 
> this chapter contains: dumb teenagers, straight passing tj who refuses to dress for the weather, and also **mentions of parental neglect**

It isn’t until a few weeks later that Cyrus talks to TJ again. At one of Buffy’s games, between all the cheering and yelling and sneakers on a polished floor, when Cyrus noticed TJ wasn’t playing and tried to ask him why, he got brushed off – the easy smile nowhere in sight – so he added,

_10\. TJ Kippen gets closed off when he’s upset._

Only a few minutes later, when TJ asked Cyrus if he thinks the team will win without him, he added

_11\. TJ Kippen is threatened by Buffy’s place on the team._

And then a minute later,

_12\. TJ Kippen is insecure about possibly having a learning disability._

The last fact he added that day came again, after a moment.

Cyrus leaned forward in his chair conspiratorially. “Dude, that’s an-” he whispered, _“-overused buzzword._ There is _nothing_ wrong with you.”

If he hadn’t been looking for the reaction, he wouldn’t have noticed it. TJ’s eyes widened slightly, his head jerked back a miniscule amount, and the hand resting on the table twitched.

“Your teacher can’t fail you for having it.”

TJ blinked and Cyrus had to hide a smile.

_13\. TJ Kippen can be oblivious._

* * *

The first time TJ ever calls Cyrus is a few nights later. He had been starting to forget that they’d ever exchanged numbers in the first place - Cyrus was too nervous to start a conversation, and TJ had never texted him, so Cyrus just left it. So it came as a surprise when his phone lit up with a call at midnight on a Tuesday.

Cyrus jerks awake, pure instinct moving his hand to search blindly for where his phone was charging on his nightstand. After blinding himself with the brightness of the screen, with his face scrunched up in a grimace, the only thing he can see through his bleary eyes is a blown up icon of himself and TJ from his Bar Mitzvah. Cyrus stares at the image as his eyes adjust, taking in how TJ’s arm had pulled them close by curling around Cyrus’ shoulders, TJ’s smirk and reddened ears, Cyrus’ flushed cheeks and off-guard smile. _We looked cute_ , he thinks through his sleep addled brain. And then the image disappears, and is replaced by a notification;

 

_**One Missed Call: Not-So-Scary Basketball Guy** _

 

Cyrus chokes and sits up, alarm cutting through his sleep. He forces his eyes fully open and presses his thumb on the notification to call back.

It rings once… twice… three times…

“Underdog?”

“TJ, are you okay?” Cyrus rubbed his face.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m - I’m okay. Sorry, I - go back to sleep, I shouldn't have bothered you.” TJ’s voice was shaking as he stammered. Cyrus could hear wind rushing in the microphone.

“TJ, are you outside right now?”

“No.” TJ lied.

“Dude.”

“I’m not-”

 _“TJ.”_ Even through his sleep-altered state, Cyrus managed to put enough firm authority into his voice to make TJ understand he wasn't kidding. 

“I’m… at the park. The swingset.”

“Stay there, I’ll come meet you.”

“What? No, man, it’s the middle of the night. Go back to sleep, I… It’s fine.”

Cyrus stood and opened his closet, grabbing two jackets, a beanie, and his adventure shoes, quickly pulling them on. He changed from his pyjama pants to a pair of jeans as well, just in case.

“Cyrus, seriously, you don’t have to…”

“Hush, it’s fine. I feel like going for a walk anyway,” Cyrus joked, although he doubted it did much to lighten the situation.

He stopped on his way out the door, “Hang on a sec,” and placed his phone on his desk, scanning his room for a pen and paper. He had to rip a page out of one of his notebooks, but he jotted down a quick note;

 _Dad and Sharon,_  
_There’s a friend emergency, I’ll be back within a_  
_couple of hours at the latest._  
_Don’t panic unless I’m still gone in the morning._  
_I have my phone on me,_  
_Will be at the park._  
_\- Cyrus,_

He checked his phone’s display, adding the time as an afterthought.

_12:37 AM_

Hopefully, if one of them woke and noticed he was gone this would be enough to appease them. At least to the point where they wouldn’t call the cops claiming their son was kidnapped before texting him. He folded the note and placed it on his nightstand, heading for the door once again. Cyrus picked up his phone off his desk on the way, pleased to note that TJ was still connected.

“Okay,” he whispered, heading down the hall towards his front door. “I’m leaving now, I should be there in about 10 minutes. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?”

“I… No, I’ll be okay, dude. Are you sure about this?”

Cyrus grabbed his keys off the hook next to the door and opened and closed it as quietly as he could behind him, locking it once it was closed. The icy wind bit at his face, and Cyrus found himself thankful for having the foresight to bundle up. That thought led to hoping that TJ had warm clothes and his jaw clenched in worry. He set off down the stairs and onto the street, grateful for the street lights overhead.

“Oh, don’t even worry about it, TJ. Once Andi had an emergency and made me run to meet her at Andi Shack at 3 am. And Andi Shack is a lot further than the swings are.” He huffed a laugh, remembering that night.

It turned out, Andi had tried to trim her hair herself on a midnight impulse and cut her bangs way too short. She hid in Andi Shack so Celia wouldn’t spot her until Cyrus and Buffy had shown up.

“Was she okay?”

“Yeah, just had a hair emergency,” Cyrus snickered, “She was lucky Buffy and I are amazing amateur hairdressers.”

TJ didn’t respond immediately, but Cyrus could tell he had calmed down quite a bit. His breathing seemed steadier than before, but Cyrus didn’t take that as a guarantee that he was okay. He started walking quicker. He checked the percentage on his phone: 34%. Given that he didn’t know how long they would be out, that wasn’t a good sign.

“I’m gonna hang up, okay? I don’t want my phone to go flat, but I’ll be there in about five minutes. Just stay there.”

“Sure.” TJ hung up. Cyrus bit his lip.

After a few minutes, Cyrus rounded the last corner onto the park. If he wasn’t so concerned about TJ, he might’ve been embarrassed about his lack of stamina, with his shortness of breath. In the distance he spotted the park, the playground dimly illuminated, but even in the darkness he could make out a silhouette sitting on the swings.

When his feet hit frosty grass, rather than concrete, Cyrus slowed. The worst thing in this situation would be to slip and fall on his way. As he grew closer, he could see TJ lazily kicking his feet through the mulch beneath the swings. He was only wearing a thin t-shirt and sweatpants, but his feet had a pair of sneakers on. Cyrus walked up to him.

“Hey.”

TJ turned to look at him and Cyrus tried for a lopsided smile.

“Hey, Underdog.” TJ turned back around. Cyrus could see him shiver.

Silently, he undid the zip on his outer hoodie, shrugging it off and dropping it to hang over TJ’s shoulder. TJ looked at him sharply.

“Cyrus, _no._ I already you walk all the way here, I’m not going to let you freeze.” He sounded angry. Cyrus wondered if that was directed at him or not.

“Well, too bad. You didn’t _make_ me walk here, I chose to.” Cyrus raised his eyebrows at TJ. “Plus, I brought two just in case. See?” He held up his hands, covered by the sleeves of his second jacket and waved them around with a grin. He walked to the other swing and sat down.

TJ still frowned at him, so Cyrus met his eyes and said gently, “C’mon, its warm.”

They held each other’s gaze, Cyrus in an attempt to show his support and TJ with an unreadable expression. TJ broke the eye contact in favour of staring at the ground for a moment, before standing and shrugging the jacket on. It swamped Cyrus, but it fit TJ well, reaching the middle of his palms. He sat back down on the swing with a sigh.

The two sat in silence for a minute - Cyrus swinging slowly and TJ avoiding his eyes. He scuffed at the mulch with his toe.

In the silence, Cyrus let his eyes wander.

The field was dark, with the exception of the bordering street lights, casting a dim yellow luminescence across the few patches of grass. Behind them, opposite the field, the pond stood still - only buffeted by the same restless wind which scratched at Cyrus’ face. The only sign of life aside from the two of them, were the insects desperately clinging to the lamp above them, and the occasional car which lazily rolled past.

They must have sat there for minutes, quietly breathing together, only an arms length apart.

Cyrus sighed and his breath was visible in the air. He glanced at TJ. He looked _so tired._ Cyrus looked away.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Cyrus could see him in his peripherals; TJ clenched and unclenched his jaw, opened and closed his mouth, mouthing sentences he couldn't seem to say.

Eventually he settled on “We had a fight - me and my mom. I climbed out my window to get away for a while and when I... she locked it behind me. Or maybe I didn’t prop it open, but I got locked out.”

Cyrus hummed softly. “Do you have anywhere else to go?”

TJ scowled, “No. My sister’s at a friend’s place and she’s unreliable at the best of times. I tried Reed but he’s off doing god knows what.”

Cyrus had no idea that TJ even _had_ a sister, much less heard of this Reed person, but that was all he needed to make up his mind. Cyrus stood, stretching after sitting for so long, and held out a hand to TJ.

Cyrus watched as he looked quizzically from him to his outstretched hand, and said, “You can stay the night at my place.”

TJ blinked, but his face hardened. He stood, not taking Cyrus’ hand and Cyrus let it drop by his side. TJ was _annoyingly_ tall when up close like this.

“Underdog, you’ve already done more than enough, I can’t impose like t-”

“It’s not imposing if I invite you!”

“You’re only inviting me because I called you!”

“Hey, I would’ve invited you if you texted me too.” Now he was just being contrary for the sake of it. It was kind of fun, being up in someone’s face like this as they argued. It was weird.

TJ gave him an unamused look, so Cyrus continued, “You’ve already met my dad, and we have a spare room.”

“Look, I appreciate it, but I’ll figure something-”

"No, you won't! You just told me you don't have any options."

"I'll just go back to my house, maybe I just didn't try all the windows."

"No way, you can't walk all the way there just to have to come  _back_ when you can't get in."

"Why are you being so stubborn, Cyrus? This doesn't involve you!"

"What, I'm not allowed to be worried about you?"

TJ huffed, twisting his mouth in a scowl. "I said no. I'm not going to be more of a burden than I already-"

Cyrus sighed, seeing this was going no where, and started thinking. TJ  _clearly_ was too stubborn to accept help if it was only for his own benefit. So that left only one thing to do. 

Cyrus interrupted him by raising a hand to his forehead in a grimace, eyes closed, “Oh TJ, I think I’m coming down with something! Quick, you’ve gotta bring me to my house. I’ll never make it on my own!” And with no further ado, Cyrus swooned into his arms.

TJ yelped, quick to catch him before he actually fell to the ground, and said, “Oh, you brat!”

Cyrus peeked open one eye and and peered up at him from where he was leaning on him. “So, you’ll come with me?”

TJ looked at him with contempt - an expression that Cyrus knew was 100% fake when he had to look away to stop himself from smiling - and said, “Well, if you’re this fragile, _clearly_ I have no choice.”

Cyrus grinned for all of 2 seconds before TJ swept another arm under his knees and lifted him into a bridal carry. It was Cyrus’ turn to yelp, and he gripped TJ’s bicep as he heaved him up.

_“Do I not weigh anything to you?!”_

TJ smirked. “Nope.”

“Oh my - TJ, put me _down_ , you don’t even know where I live.”

“Oh, but I thought you were dying?”

“I’d rather die from hypothermia than from you dropping me.”

He pretended to consider it, before smirking and letting go of Cyrus’ legs, leaving him to scramble for his footing. After floundering for a minute on the grass, Cyrus turned and pointed at TJ, “Now, _that_ was unfair. How dare you use my height against me!”

“You literally just pretended you were dying.”

“Irrelevant.”

They stared at each other for a minute.

TJ snorted, and then they were laughing, gasping for breath and leaning on each other. The exhaustion and stress from the night caught up to them and they sank into each other, breathlessly, wheezing in the night air. Cyrus gripped onto TJ’s arm again, to save himself himself dropping onto the ground and buried his forehead into the junction between TJ’s shoulder and neck and TJ dropped his cheek onto his head as their senseless cackling faded to a low giggling.

They stood there, for minutes or hours, before Cyrus detached himself from TJ, looking up slowly. TJ found himself looking down and they locked eyes, for days or years. A smile curved its way onto TJ’s face, and Cyrus found himself mirroring it, before snorting and pushing himself away from TJ, goodnaturedly.

“C’mon, you stubborn nerd. It’s getting late and we have school tomorrow.” Cyrus looked pointedly at TJ, who groaned.

“I actually forgot about that,” he huffed, but smirked at Cyrus, “Lead the way then, shortstack.”

“I don’t appreciate that nickname!”

TJ pushed him forward, in a similar manner to when they met in the cafeteria weeks ago, and Cyrus pouted but started walking in the direction of his house, arguing fondly with TJ the whole time.

In the back of his mind he added;

_14\. TJ Kippen has strong arms._

* * *

As they approached the house, Cyrus checked his phone, relieved to see there were no new messages. He was surprised, however that it was already 2:18 AM - much later than he felt it was.

He hushed TJ, who instantly fell silent, and unlocked the door as quietly as possible. From there, the two managed to sneak up the stairs to Cyrus’ room. As soon as the door shut behind them, they couldn’t help but start snickering at each other again, frantically shushing each other for moments at a time - before starting again.

Once they finally managed to get a hold of themselves, Cyrus held out a spare pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for TJ to change into, and sent him to sneak across the hall to the bathroom. Once he was gone, Cyrus changed back into the pyjamas he had changed from two hours ago, and snuck downstairs to grab two glasses of water and a bag of doritos. He considered sneaking them upstairs, but Norman would probably care more about eating in the bedroom than sneaking home a friend in need. With that, he placed the snacks on the coffee table, and headed up to beckon TJ down with him.

They ended up in front of the TV, flashing lights and muted words lighting up the living room. It didn’t take them long to fall asleep, at different ends of the couch, feet entwined.

When Norman blearily made his way down the stairs hours later, in the predawn darkness, it took him a moment to realise there were two children asleep on his couch - one definitely his own, and another who looked strangely familiar. He debated with himself for a moment but knew Cyrus wouldn’t do something like this without sufficient reason, so he resigned himself for an interrogation during breakfast, quietly padded over to turn the TV off and put the two phones on the table on their chargers, grabbed himself a drink of water, and returned to bed.

* * *

Cyrus rolled over in his sleep, only to scrunch up his eyes as a ray of sunlight fell onto him. He turned back, but the damage was done. He brought a hand up to rub at his face, willing himself into consciousness.

He forced open his eyes, and found himself in his living room, facing the TV. For a moment, Cyrus forgot the events of last night, but when he tried to move his leg and a groan sounded from the other end of the couch, Cyrus remembered.

He stilled, stiffened, panicked, relaxed, and sighed over the course of five seconds.

Cyrus rubbed his face again, trying to clear the last remnants of sleep from his eyes before sitting up as gently as possible.

There he was. It wasn’t a dream. TJ Kippen was asleep in his house.

His head was supported by the couch’s arm rest (Cyrus hoped his neck wouldn’t be too sore) and one arm cradled underneath, and the other curled up at his chest.

TJ’s hair was ungelled, and had a fluffiness to it that Cyrus had never seen before. The tips waved and curled and fell over his face, which was relaxed with an openness even he had never seen before. The cool sunlight from the window which woke up Cyrus cast him in a white glow, framing him like a halo.

_Wow._

At this point it was instinctive to think,

_15\. TJ Kippen is beautiful._

Cyrus didn’t have time to process this realisation beyond the fleeting _I should really be writing these down_ , before heavy footsteps fell on the steps.

“Morning, Cyrus.”

“Oh, dad.” Cyrus looked at him, slightly dazed. Norman cocked an eyebrow.

“Is that the boy from your Bar Mitzvah?”

“Huh?” Cyrus looked back at TJ, remembering what was happening. “Oh!” He lowered his voice before TJ could stir again, “Yes, this is TJ.”

Norman just hummed, and said “Why don’t I start on breakfast, and you can tell me what’s going on where we won’t wake him.”

Cyrus nodded and Norman turned into the kitchen.

With one last glance at TJ, Cyrus set about disentangling himself from both the blanket and TJ’s legs without waking him. Stopping every time the other stirred, it took him a solid two minutes until he could freely stand up and follow his father into the kitchen, where he found him preparing to make pancakes.

“So…” Norman started, gesturing to Cyrus to finish.

“So, TJ called me last night saying he was out at the park because his mom either accidentally or purposely locked him out. I asked if he had anywhere to stay the night, and he said no, so I brought him here.” Cyrus twisted his mouth, “I _was_ gonna get him to sleep in the spare room but…”

“You fell asleep out here?”

“Yeah.”

Norman poured the mixture into the pan, not looking at Cyrus. “Will he be safe to go home after school today?”

“I think so. He said it was probably an accident, because he snuck out through the window after they had a fight, so the wind might have knocked it shut.”

Norman pursed his lips. “That doesn’t guarantee that it wasn’t purposeful.”

Cyrus watched Norman’s back, frowning. “I know.”

Norman turned to him, looking his son in the eye. “If it was the first time it’s happened, we have to give them the benefit of the doubt. But if it becomes a regular occurrence…”

“I know.”

Norman nodded and Cyrus wasn’t sure if it was directed to him or himself. He turned back to the pancakes, flipping one easily. “Well,” He started with a lighter tone, “You go wake him up and then we can eat.”

Cyrus just nodded, trying to clear his head of the worry that Norman’s implications had set in.

When he returned to the living room, he saw that TJ was already awake, sitting up awkwardly on the couch massaging his neck. His soft footsteps gained TJ’s attention, who turned to him with a sheepish smile.

“I fell asleep.”

Cyrus smiled. It was hard to think of his worries when he had a friend right in front of him. “Don’t even worry, so did I.” He padded over to sit on the couch next to him. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Cyrus was reminded of how soft the other could be in this moment, as he sat, sleepy and smiling softly at him, hair still falling over his eyes. Cyrus hadn’t realised last night, but it must have been ungelled when they met at the park. Cyrus chose not to think about why his thoughts repeatedly lingered on TJ’s hair.

TJ looked around, noting the cold sunlight filtering into the room, and asked “What time is it?”

“Around seven, I think.”

TJ hummed. Cyrus pulled his thoughts from his appearance.

“Oh yeah, my dad’s making pancakes in the kitchen and sent me to wake you.”

The relaxed calm that had overtaken TJ in his post-sleep bliss was gone, replaced in a second by an anxious stiffness. He sat up straight and looked around, “Oh.”

Cyrus frowned, “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I just forgot…”

Cyrus cocked an eyebrow but TJ didn’t finish.

“...Okay. He’s not mad or anything, you know. It’ll be fine.”

“I wasn’t worried.” TJ scowled. And now he was closed off. _That’s fun._

Cyrus gave him an unimpressed look. “Sure.”

“What? Don’t just assume I’m worried about things.” TJ looked him in the eye but Cyrus stared right back.

Neither spoke for a minute.

“...TJ, I’m not a punching bag, remember? Don’t start that again.”

It was minuscule, but Cyrus saw him deflate a bit, his brow unfurrowing slightly. TJ looked away and Cyrus exhaled.

He stood, and extended a hand. “Come on, dude. _Pancakes._ ” Cyrus waggled his eyebrows enticingly, and TJ huffed with a small laugh. He took his hand and pulled him up - well, TJ pulled himself up, Cyrus tried not to be pulled down. Cyrus willed himself not to hold onto his hand for too long, and was relieved when TJ let go, saving Cyrus the trouble of overthinking.

He gestured with his head towards the hallway, and the two boys headed into the kitchen where Norman was piling pancakes onto a plate.

“Good morning, Mr. Goodman,” TJ greeted him, more polite than Cyrus had realised him capable of. “I’m sorry for intruding last night-”

Norman cut him off with a gentle smile, “Nonsense, we have Cyrus’ friends over all the time! There’s no issue. And please, call me Norman.”

TJ smiled politely, asking Norman how he had been since the Bar Mitzvah, and wow, Cyrus hadn’t thought he would be rude, but he hadn’t expected _boy next door_ either.

As the two conversed, Norman cut himself off at one point to ask “Oh, Cyrus, I think I left my phone in my bedroom, could you grab it for me?”

Cyrus narrowed his eyes and glanced at TJ, but the other boy seemed much comfortable than he had been in the living room, so he said, “...Yes. I can do that.” He shot a pointed look at his dad, but Norman just smiled innocently.

Slowly, with one more look at TJ, Cyrus left the room, heading up the stairs. Sharon had already left for the day, as she often had early home-visits on Wednesdays, so Cyrus just walked into the bedroom, scanning for the phone. He frowned when he couldn’t spot it, but set about looking around just in case.

After a couple of minutes with no luck, he silently padded down the stairs, hoping his dad hadn’t psycho-analysed TJ _too_ much. As he stepped down, the tail-end of a conversation stopped him in his tracks on the stairs.

“-think it’ll be okay.”

“Well, you know you’ll always be welcome here if it happens again.”

“Thanks, Mr Goodman.” Cyrus could hear the small smile in TJ’s voice.

“I’m going to give you the house number, just in case, alright?”

“Oh, really, it’ll be-”

“For my own peace of mind.”

“...Okay.”

There was a lull, and Cyrus took the opportunity to resume descending the stairs, calling out “Dad, I couldn’t find it.” as he went.

When he walked in, the two had resumed their easy conversation, Norman asking about TJ’s team and TJ telling him about their next game that was coming up.

Norman looked up as Cyrus entered, and smiled, “Ah, turns out it was in my pocket. Sorry, Cyrus.”

Cyrus just gave him a look. He crossed to the counter, and took a seat on one of the stools next to where TJ was perched. The other boy was already making his way through some pancakes, so Cyrus reached over to serve himself.

Norman checked his watch, and excused himself to go get ready for the day. Before he left he asked, “TJ, do you want us to drop you at your house so you can get changed?”

TJ looked up, but said “No, that’s okay, I have some spare clothes in my locker for after practice, so I’ll just stop there to change. Thank you, though.”

Norman nodded, and headed upstairs.

The two ate in silence for a moment, appreciating the food too much to talk. When they finished, Cyrus asked, “Did he grill you?”

Surprisingly, TJ answered honestly. “A bit, but it wasn’t too bad. I checked my phone and I think she didn’t even realise I was gone.” He shrugged at the words, but Cyrus frowned with worry.

He opened his mouth to say something but… there wasn’t anything to say, so he stopped. They placed the dishes in the sink quietly, before Cyrus gestured up the stairs. They stepped into Cyrus’ bathroom, who handed TJ a spare toothbrush and some deodorant, and went to get dressed. The somber mood from the kitchen was broken when Cyrus started to model outfits for TJ, ending in them both quickly breaking out into laughter. TJ wouldn’t let Cyrus pick an outfit for him, which was practical considering they were very different sizes, but Cyrus still pouted and whined about it until TJ pulled on a sweater to shut him up. It worked, considering Cyrus laughed too hard to actually speak for a few minutes, and TJ flushed but modelled the sweater with pride - it didn’t fit, Cyrus discovered that lavender was _not_ TJ’s colour, and sweaters just flat out did not suit him.

In the end, they returned to lightheartedly mucking around until Norman called for them to leave, after both were dressed - TJ still in his clothes from the night before, but he had managed to tame his hair much to Cyrus’ personal disappointment - and they piled into the back of Norman’s car. As they pulled out of the driveway, Cyrus reminded himself to add one more TJ Fact;

_16\. TJ Kippen is a Boy Next Door._

* * *

Finally, as they pulled into the school - early, so TJ could get ready in the locker room in peace - TJ pulled Cyrus into the cafeteria by his arm before Cyrus could ask why.

The lunch ladies were setting up for the day, and the few early students were milling around listlessly, so no one paid any mind when TJ waltzed up and grabbed a chocolate chocolate-chip muffin from the dish. Cyrus just blinked when TJ turned to him and held it out.

“What.”

“It’s the least I can do, Underdog.”

“What.”

TJ just gave him a look and pushed the muffin into Cyrus’ hand.

“I’m gonna head to the locker room. I’ll catch you later, dude.” TJ smiled as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smirk like he normally would or smile gently. He walked around Cyrus and patted his shoulder as he went.

Cyrus stood there for another moment before his brain caught up with him. He turned and sat down at one of the cafeteria tables. He pulled out his phone and sat the muffin on the table behind him. He pulled up the Notes app. He started writing.

* * *

_1\. TJ Kippen is mean._

_2\. TJ Kippen is a bully._

_3\. TJ Kippen is unfairly attractive._

_4\. TJ Kippen has green eyes._

_5\. TJ Kippen can be nice when he wants to be._

_6\. TJ Kippen has a nice laugh._

_7\. TJ Kippen likes nicknames._

_8\. TJ Kippen knows when to mind his own business._

_9\. TJ Kippen has nice hands._

_10\. TJ Kippen gets closed off when he’s upset._

_11\. TJ Kippen is threatened by Buffy’s place on the team._

_12\. TJ Kippen is insecure about possibly having a learning disability._

_13\. TJ Kippen can be oblivious._

_14\. TJ Kippen has strong arms._

_15\. TJ Kippen is beautiful._

_16\. TJ Kippen is a Boy Next Door._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gonna start taking prompts!! check out my tumblr to submit them


	5. #17, #18, #19, #20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, what other ‘easy stuff’ can’t you do?” TJ used air quotes.
> 
> “Plenty. I can’t do a handstand, or balance on a beam, and last time I tried to skateboard I fell into a bush and sprained my thumb!”
> 
> “Well, first of all, none of that stuff is as ‘easy’ as you claim. A lot of people can’t do that! And secondly, maybe you just never had the right teacher.” TJ looks at him out of the corner of his eye with a quirk of his lips. It was almost enough to make Cyrus believe him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: this wasnt showing up in the ao3 tags so im reuploading this chapter!! sorry if you get the notification twice :/
> 
> sorry this took so long!! im actually pretty happy w this chapter tho so i hope you like it!!
> 
> also these chapters keep getting longer the more i get used to writing again... its nice!!
> 
> i went back and edited the last chapter a bit, especially w the dialogue in some parts AND i posted a tyrus one shot, in case u missed it!!

After that, Cyrus stops talking to TJ.

Only for a few days, granted, but no matter how close they had become Cyrus isn’t willing to give up Buffy for him.

It wasn’t necessarily hard; they were in different grades, sharing no classes, and didn’t have any mutual friends. The only thing Cyrus couldn’t seem to get TJ to stop doing was bringing him a muffin every morning.

It wasn’t like he tried to seek TJ out - it was the opposite, actually. TJ seemed to have an accurate knowledge on where Cyrus would be each morning, and when to show up at a time whenever he was alone.

Now, to be fair, Cyrus hadn’t explicitly told TJ he wouldn’t be friends with him anymore. He also hadn’t implied it. He also hadn’t given any indication that this might be the case. So, really, he was more frustrated with himself for not being able to give a hint than with TJ for not being able to take one.

So, they actually just continued to talk and joke around, even texting on the odd night— which Cyrus would claim was solely out of not wanting to ghost him.

But then Cyrus almost has a meltdown over Buffy ignoring him, Jonah starts to panic, and Buffy is forced to listen to him, and everything might be okay again! And in that moment, with pancake batter still soaking into his socks, the almost burn of a desperate attempt at humor leaving the skin around his eyes feverish, the ever self-ignorant Jonah happy to work through their problems once his own aren’t at the forefront of his mind, and a Buffy who is listening to him for the first time in days, it becomes easy to forget she’s even leaving.

In these moments, Cyrus doesn’t think of TJ. Not consciously. He thinks of how strong Buffy is. How determined she is to make their last days together special. He thinks of their memories, and their love for each other and how _unique_ his, Andi’s, and Buffy’s friendship really is.

But when she gets overwhelmed at the thought of a time capsule, it’s hard to forget the she’s just a teenage girl.

The only time that night when Cyrus thinks of TJ, is when Jonah brings the basketball with their names. But even that is fleeting, drowned out by emotion for their best friend.

And when they stand outside Buffy’s home, in the cold of night, carrying a time capsule she didn’t want but they all needed, only to realise she was gone, she left, she didn’t say goodbye, and the last thing they spoke to each other was Buffy claiming she refused to attend her own funeral… Cyrus can’t imagine how he ever forgot this could happen.

Cyrus, Andi, and Jonah stand there, in the cold and wind, for minutes or hours. When Andi begins to cry, Cyrus’ chin wobbles. And when Cyrus pulls her to his chest, Jonah following, as they stare into the empty house, Buffy could never have said goodbye.

Cyrus’ list of Buffy has extended for hundreds of facts, over the span of 5 years. But the fact that he was always reminded of, especially in this situation, was always the third fact he had ever learned about her, back when they were seven years old.

_3\. Buffy Driscoll is stubborn to a fault._

* * *

It’s only a couple of days after, when Cyrus finds him and Andi’s wallowing interrupted by the appearance of one certain blonde.

TJ greets him with a smile, as he always does. Today that smile extends to Andi, as he looked over the two of them.

“Hey, who’s your friend?” He gestures to Time Capsule Buffy.

Andi doesn’t return the smile. “Uh, it’s kind of a long story.” She doesn’t look like she’s going to elaborate, so Cyrus cuts in.

“It’s Buffy. It’s how we pretend she’s still around.”

TJ just nods, “Got it. I didn’t recognise her.” He pitches his voice in an impression of her, “‘Go away, TJ.’ Oh, now I see the resemblance.” Cyrus hides a smile while Andi just frowns. “Can I sit?” He has one of those small, genuine smiles again.

Cyrus just shrugged and turned to Andi, trying to ignore how weak he would be if TJ ever pulled puppy eyes on him. “I think she would be okay with it.”

Andi looks affronted. “I’m not sure _I’m_ okay with it.”

TJ stops smiling.

“You were _awful_ to her. And even though she’s _gone_ … She’s still here in spirit.”

TJ looks down. Cyrus is about to say something, but he doesn’t need to. TJ turns to Time Capsule Buffy.

“Buffy… I know I should’ve done this in person -”

Andi looks up. Cyrus searches TJ’s face for a sign of mockery, but all he sees is green eyes locked on Buffy.

“-But I was a jerk. Like, big-time. And I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

Only then, did TJ look to Andi. He looked… almost hesitant. It’s not a look Cyrus had ever seen him sport. Andi saw it too, apparently, and gestured for him to sit with a small smile.

TJ smiles again, and Cyrus could live in this moment forever.

_If only Buffy were here._

TJ slides into the booth, moving Time Capsule Buffy aside gently. “So, what were you guys talking about?”

“Oh, you know, the weather, current events, price of hot lunch.” Cyrus deflects. He would like to save whatever dignity he still has in TJ’s eyes.

He didn’t count on the near-imperceptible flash of hurt in TJ’s eyes when he hears this. “So you let me sit down but you won’t even talk to me?”

Cyrus is instantly regretful. “I’m sorry, it’s private. I’m having a... “ He flicks his away back and forth between TJ’s eyes and the table, “...Physical issue.”

And then TJ’s eyes widen and he sits up, and Andi’s busy smothering a laugh as TJ says, “Oh.” and Cyrus realises his implication.

He straightens in his seat. “Wait, no, stop imagining horrible things!” Andi snickers beside him and he elbows her lightly. “I- I can’t do a somersault, okay? In fact, there’s a whole list of easy things that I can’t do.”

TJ laughs, any look of discomfort at what Cyrus had accidentally suggested gone from his face. It’s one of those laughs where he looks away, exhaling a huff of laughter accompanied with a smile. Cyrus likes when he laughs like that.

He picks up his phone from the table, opening Notes and sending the list to TJ, distractedly. He gets distracted a lot around TJ.

Andi just leans forward and confirms, “He’s serious, there is a list.”

Cyrus puts his phone down. “Just shared it with you.”

TJ glances at his phone and places it back on the table without checking when it buzzes. He does another of those huffing laughs.

“Listen, Underdog, if you can’t do a somersault, I can help you with that.” He shrugs likes its the easiest thing in the world. _It probably is,_ Cyrus supposes, _to him._

The door chimes as Jonah walks in, momentarily distracting Cyrus from their conversation. He nudges Andi over to him.

While those two were dealing with their problems, TJ quickly just turned back to Cyrus, Jonah forgotten.

“So,” TJ gave a half smile, “How are you dealing without Buffy?”

Cyrus slumps. “I’m not. You know I skipped class today?”

TJ raises his eyebrows with a grin, “Damn, Underdog’s getting rebellious!”

“Nope, it’s the opposite. I skipped because I can’t do a somersault, and Buffy wasn’t there to force me to go.”

TJ drops his grin slowly. His hand comes up to massage the back of his neck and he looks Cyrus in the eye. TJ sighs. “You know, I really did mean what i said to...” He gestures to Time Capsule Buffy, “I wish I had sorted things out with her before she left.”

“...Is that why you signed the basketball?”

“Partially. I also just wanted her to know that we were both part of the same team, even if we never played together properly.”

Cyrus smiled crookedly at him. “I think she wanted to play with you properly.”

TJ still looked dejected. “She probably would have preferred I didn’t sign the ball, anyway.”

“She would have most likely taken it as a challenge, actually. I can totally imagine her challenging you to a game before she left.” That image seems to coax a smile out of TJ in the twitch of his lips. The image leaves Cyrus to sigh through his smile. “I miss her a lot.”

“Hey, you know what?”

“What?” Cyrus raises an eyebrow.

“I actually miss her too. Everyone on the team does, even if I was never really her team member.”

Cyrus reached over and patted TJ’s hand, which was resting on the table. “I wish you could have worked things out with her.”

TJ smiled wryly. “Me too.”

They sit in silence for a minute, Cyrus choosing not to notice that his hand is still atop TJ’s. If he thought about it, his brain would probably try to compare this setting to a d-

TJ shakes his head, “So, anyway. Why can’t you do a somersault?”

“What do you mean, why? I just _can’t.”_

TJ scoffs. “No, dude. There’s always a reason why you can’t do something. Does it scare you?”

“Does it scare me having to kneel on a cold, hard floor and have to put all my weight on my head in an attempt to not break my neck, and have to push myself forward into a roll which I don’t know how to do, while everyone in my class stares at me?” TJ raised his eyebrows, and Cyrus just scoffed at himself. “Psh, of course not.”

“Okay, well, that’s a few different issues, but _luckily_ for you, I know just how to handle all of them!”

“You must be a miracle worker, then.”

“I’m just a good teacher-” TJ’s easy grin was interrupted as a girl who Cyrus hadn’t even noticed walk in sat down next to him - without even asking first, which was just rude.

Natalie gave him a brief smile before Jonah pulled up a chair with a brief, “You coming?” to Andi, who looked about as off-put as Cyrus felt. TJ looked as if he weren’t quite sure what was happening and Cyrus shared a glance with him.

Andi stood and clearly decided that this was not something that she wanted to deal with today, and said, “I… Actually, I should get going.”

“Really?” Asked Natalie.

“Really?” Groaned Cyrus

Andi picked up her bag. “I just remembered I have to be…” She looked from Jonah to Natalie. “...Not here.” And with that, Andi left the building, Jonah’s eyes following her, ever oblivious.

Cyrus hadn’t quite started to despair at the situation before TJ’s voice broke in, “I should… probably head out too. I have to go to work.”

Cyrus began to despair.

TJ inclined his head and cocked his eyebrows towards him purposely. “You want to come with me?”

Cyrus blinked.

“Yes! Please!” Cyrus started gathering his things as soon as the words left TJ’s mouth. Natalie stood to let Cyrus out, and TJ followed suit, waiting by the door for him to catch up.

As soon as they were out the door, the wind started biting at Cyrus’ face, prompting him to put on his jacket hurriedly. It almost reminded him of the night TJ came over.

TJ waited for him to be settled before nodding his head towards where they were going and setting off, Cyrus gladly in tow.

“What was that even _about?”_ TJ looked incredulously back to the Spoon.

“Ugh, Andi and Jonah and their str-” Cyrus cut himself off by clearing his throat. Complaining about straight people drama to a straight person was never a good idea. “- their _relationship_ drama.”

“Is this the same drama they were having at your Bar Mitzvah, or a new one?”

“I’m gonna be honest, here. I don’t even _know.”_

TJ snickered and Cyrus tried to ignore how their shoulders bumped and their hands brushed as they walked, or how cute TJ looked with the cool air causing his nose and ears to flush, or the wind barely whipping at his gelled hair. He tried to ignore how much taller TJ was, when they were walking side by side like this.

“So, what other ‘easy stuff’ can’t you do?” TJ used air quotes.

“Plenty. I can’t do a handstand, or balance on a beam, and last time I tried to skateboard I fell into a bush and sprained my thumb!”

“Well, first of all, none of that stuff is as ‘easy’ as you claim. A lot of people can’t do that! And secondly, maybe you just never had the right teacher.” TJ looks at him out of the corner of his eye with a quirk of his lips. It was almost enough to make Cyrus believe him.

“Well, it certainly would’ve helped if Jonah had taught me how to stop or turn before putting me on a skateboard.”

TJ laughs, “What? That’s like, step one! I would bet Jonah’s never taught anyone to skate before.”

“What, and you have?” Cyrus kept his voice low and teasing, with a cocked eyebrow.

“Of course not, I don’t even know how to skate.” Cyrus exclaimed a short ‘A-ha’, before TJ continued with a look, _“But_ it doesn’t seem too difficult to learn if you know the basics. And if I was going to teach anyone, I would make sure the basics would be the first thing.”

“You sure claim to know a lot about teaching.”

“‘Claim?’ Underdog, I work at a gym. And I’m not captain for no reason,” TJ peered at him. “Speaking of, we’re here.” TJ gestured up at the sign they were walking towards.

“You work at a _gym?”_ Cyrus almost felt betrayed, but that was just to be dramatic. “You should have told me, I hate gyms.”

TJ responded with a grin, as he was want to do, “You’ll like this one. _This_ is where you’re gonna learn to do a somersault.”

“Says the athlete with boundless confidence. You don’t know what it’s like to be a kugel of a man.”

TJ just herded him towards the door, and when Cyrus looked back to him with a pout, pushed him inside with a smile.

The first thing that registers is the sound of many children laughing and giggling and screaming in joy. The second is the warmth from inside, seeping into Cyrus’ clothes in a stark contrast to the icy wind outside. The third is the actual appearance. From wall ceiling to floor, the place is any child’s dream. Rainbow matting tiles lined the floor, with green and orange and red cubes being climbed on and stacked and leapt over. A climbable net stretched out over a foam pit, where two kids were pretending to swim. Others were jumping on the balance beams and a small portable trampoline in the corner. Some older kids were tossing around a yellow beach ball and one child was hamster-balling himself around in a giant orange, blue, and red foam wheel.

Cyrus barely even felt the grin stretching across his face before TJ slung an arm around him and pulled him into a half embrace. Cyrus dragged his eyes from the scene, to TJ, who was looking around with so much contentment and happiness that it almost took his breath away.

The kids noticed that TJ had arrived, and the room was filled with a chorus of about a dozen voices calling out ‘TJ!’ or ‘Teej!’. TJ just grinned and ruffled a few kids hair, carefully catching and placing back on the ground one who looked like her plan was to ambush him from the top of the blocks.

TJ looked to Cyrus, “I need to get changed, so I’ll be back in a minute.”

Cyrus smirked and said, “I guess I’ll wait here… _Teej.”_

TJ groaned but couldn't hide his smile. He pointed a finger at him, “Don’t you start with that, shortstack.”

TJ started picking his way around the kids and the play equipment, making his way to a child-proofed door on the side of the foam pit. Before Cyrus had his attention stolen away by a 7 year-old asking who he was, he glimpsed TJ looking back at him with what looked like a smile and a wink.

Cyrus’ heart skipped a beat.

He blinked and TJ was gone and wow, that was something he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with right now.

So, Cyrus forcibly pulled his attention back to the 7 year-old, ignoring the stress that was starting to set into his skin.

* * *

Cyrus played around with the kids for the few minutes it took TJ to get changed into his uniform and sign into his shift. There were around a dozen kids, aged from about 5 years old, to 10 years old.

Some of the younger kids were instantly taken with Cyrus, attempting to drag him into the foam pit with them, but the older kids tried to reign them in, taking the liberty to introduce themselves.

The oldest, a 10 year old girl named Isabelle introduced herself and her younger brother, Rhys, claiming they were regulars. Some of the other kids stepped forward, each proclaiming their names.

Cyrus managed to talk to about five of them, before some of the little ones actually ended up pushing him into the pit.

Cyrus yelped, falling with as much drama as possible into the sea of grey, foam cubes. As soon as he hit the cubes, he was reminded of why kids loved these pits so much; the feeling of sinking into a practical _cloud,_ Cyrus could’ve fallen asleep right there. Until a six year old jumped directly onto his stomach, giggling all the while.

Cyrus heard the door to the back room open through his plight, sitting up in the pit to avoid another kid jumping on his head while he yelped - playing it up, obviously. He wasn’t scared of a bunch of children climbing on him. That would be ridiculous.

A delighted laugh came from the floor, and Cyrus peered over the heads of the kids swarming in the pit around him, all of whom had jumped in after the other two, leaving only a few of the older kids to stand with TJ, watching with grins. When Cyrus’ eyes met TJ he was overcome with the urge to smile, and it grew over his face.

Seeing TJ standing there, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, completely relaxed and in his element with these kids - who all obviously _loved_ him - filled Cyrus with this soft, warm kind of satisfaction that he wasn’t quite sure how to describe or categorize. All he knew was that he wished he could see TJ like this all the time, mellowed and calm and happy.

TJ called out to him, “I leave for five minutes and they’ve already started bullying you?”

“I’ve been vanquished by these brave kids, Teej! You have to save me!” The younger kids giggled, and those standing with TJ smiled.

“Well, I _could_ help the poor, defenceless Cyrus here, but he called me ‘Teej’. I don’t know if he really wants me to,” TJ smirked.

Cyrus pouted, still being pounced on by kids, “But it’s a cute nickname.”

TJ blinked, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second. Cyrus almost thought he imagined it though, because a second later TJ was back to sighing, “Fine…” and stepping over to the edge of the foam pit with a hand outstretched.

Cyrus waded his way over to the side, avoiding the kids, and reaching up to grab TJ’s hand. Using his hand as leverage, Cyrus planted one foot on the hard floor before TJ just gave one swift tug and pulled him up and out of the pit.

Cyrus was reminded of just how physically fit the other was at times like this, and he huffed with a smile and said, “Show off.”

TJ just smirked. Cyrus noted that his ears were bright pink in a flush.

He turned to the other kids, who were clambering their way out of the pit now that their newest toy had been removed. “Who else wants a lift?”

The kids all chorused, “Me!” and so TJ took turns lifting each of them up and out of the pit.

Once they were all back on the ground, TJ said to them, “Okay, guys. Cyrus is here for a very _special_ reason today,” He crouched down to eye level with the younger children and continued, “We are gonna teach Cyrus how to do a somersault! You guys remember how to do those, right?”

The kids all cheered their affirmations, and TJ said, “Good! Because I need your help to teach him. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

They cheered again, and Isabelle turned to TJ, “Do you want us to put some stuff away so we have more room?”

TJ shook his head, no. “Nah, we can do that later. _Plus,_ ” TJ turned to Cyrus with a smug look, “I think we’re gonna need the balance beam, too.”

* * *

Over the next few hours, Cyrus was subjected to rigorous amounts of physical strain, including having to deal with the same six year old, Zoey, continuously jumping on him from various platforms whenever she saw the opportunity. A couple of times TJ had come up behind him, only to reach over to a block that Zoey had climbed on without Cyrus’ attention and pluck her up and place her on the floor. She giggled cheekily everytime, and TJ would just ruffle her hair before she would run off.

Cyrus got the feeling this was a regular occurrence.

When he was not wary of being subject to aerial assault, TJ and the kids would bring out the next activity for them all to attempt to teach Cyrus how to do.

By the end of the day Cyrus was proud and exhausted, but able to claim that he was able to cross a balance beam without falling (albeit on his hands and knees), climb the net until he was able to ring the bell, Hold a wobbly handstand (with TJ’s help by grabbing his ankles), crawl his way through the tunnel, and after many, many more trips, pushes, and jumps into the foam pit, be able to climb his way out with ease.

The thing he was most happy about, however, was that he had managed to successfully complete a somersault - without injury! It took a lot of tries, but with TJ and the kids encouragement, he tried again and again until he got it right.

In the aftermath, he was tired from so much action - especially playing with the kids, which they would do after every activity to keep them from being bored. As the hours went by, the kids were dwindling as their parents or caretakers came to pick them up, and finally as the sky was darkening behind the clouds that streaked across, TJ and Cyrus were alone, packing up the mess from the day.

TJ had said that Cyrus didn’t need to clean up, TJ usually handled it alone anyway, but Cyrus had insisted.

“I loitered here for like, four hours. I’m gonna help clean up.”

“It wasn’t loitering, Underdog. It was a _lesson.”_

“In that case, _Teej,_ I owe you payment for teaching me!”

TJ narrowed his eyes at the use of the nickname, but countered, “If that’s how you see it, then we might as well consider the lesson repayment for letting me crash at your house.”

Cyrus frowned, “I don’t need payment for helping a friend.”

TJ just raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, pointedly.

Cyrus rolled his eyes, “Fine. _But_ , I’m still helping you pack up.”

TJ huffed, but as he turned away Cyrus saw his mouth twitch into a smile. They turned towards the balance beam, lifting and resting it against the wall.

“So,” Cyrus began, “Why do you work here? Like, I thought you needed a bunch of qualifications to work in a gym or with kids, nevermind both.”

TJ hummed and they crossed the room to the blocks and started stacking them in towers in the corner, “I needed a job, and my cousin owns this place. They put me through trial shifts with other workers and made sure the regular’s parents were okay with it, so,” TJ shrugged, “I got a job.”

Cyrus cocked an eyebrow, “You must be _really_ good at this job for them to let you do that.”

TJ snickers, “What, wasn’t I good enough for you today?”

Cyrus places the last cube on the stack, and TJ grabs the big wheel while Cyrus heads to the foam pit and starts pushing all the spilled blocks back in, “Psh, we both know today was more about teaching me than the kids.”

“I dunno about that, they certainly had a good time helping me teach you. Plus, it gave me an excuse to actually organise some games and have them participate. So, no, Cyrus, today wasn’t _just_ about you.” Coming from anyone else that may have sounded reproachful, but when TJ said it his tone was playful. Maybe even fond, if Cyrus was really analysing it. Cyrus paused in his actions, and looked back at him.

“Well, I guess you were right before, then.”

TJ turned to him, questioning.

“When we were on the way here, you said you were a good teacher. You were right,” Cyrus smiled lightly, his tone soft and his voice low.

In the quiet of the room, with slivers of sunset spilling through the slowly dissipating clouds leaking in through the windows, it would have felt wrong to speak too loudly; it would have broken the spell.

TJ opened his mouth to speak, but as they looked at each other he seemed to lose the words.

TJ looked tired, in the afternoon light. His hair was was messier than normal, some of the gel losing its grip, letting odd strands to fall awkwardly over his face or in the wrong direction. The dim sunlight was framing him, from where he stood with his back to the windows, his hands hanging at his sides.

It struck Cyrus, not for the first time, how truly beautiful TJ Kippen was.

Cyrus blinked and the moment was gone.

TJ broke eye contact and looked down, arrogantly saying, “I told you I was a good teacher.”

Cyrus just smiled and looked away to resume his task.

They finished packing away the rest in comfortable silence, before TJ said he needed to get changed and lock up. Cyrus waited for him near the door, taking a block from one of the stacks to sit on and checking his phone.

A text from his mom asked when he would be back, and he sent a quick reply answering that he would be back around seven-thirty. He saw that he had a few texts from Andi. None from Buffy.

_Andi (2:31 PM): sorry i ran out. I didnt want to deal with that_  
_Andi (2:31 PM): hope they werent too horrible to sit with_

_Andi (3:17 PM): are you mad at me? Im sorry for leaving you there_

Cyrus frowned at his friend’s worry.

_Cyrus (6:46 PM): It’s fine! TJ had work so I ended up going with him._  
_Cyrus (6:46 PM): It was actually really fun, TJ works at a kids gym and I learned how to do a somersault!_

Less than a minute later, she replied.

_Andi (6:46 PM): Cyrus thats great!!_  
_Andi (6:47 PM): you really… are friends with him then?_

_Cyrus (6:47 PM): Andi you know I wouldn’t spend time with him if I didn’t think he was a good person._  
_Cyrus (6:48 PM): He did bad stuff but i think he genuinely wants to be better_

_Andi (6:49 PM): okay i trust you_  
_Andi (6:49 PM): i just dont want him to treat you like he did Buffy_

_Cyrus (6:49 PM): trust me, I wouldn’t get involved with someone like that._  
_Cyrus (6:49 PM): I think he’s trying_

_Andi (6:51 PM): i wish he had tried when Buffy was still here_

_Cyrus (6:51 PM): I’m with you on that one_

The door to the back room opened, and Cyrus shot a quick _‘GTG, heading home now.’_ to Andi, before standing and replacing his makeshift seat to the stack.

TJ greeted him with a grin, twirling a ring of keys on his index finger. He was back in his outfit from the Spoon, complete with his padded vest pulled on. Cyrus shrugged his own jacket on, and smiled at him.

“Just need to lock up, and then we can get out of here,” TJ said, reaching over to flick off the overhead lights.

“Lead the way, TJ,” Cyrus hummed, and they exited, after TJ did a quick scan of the room - presumably checking for anything out of place or forgotten.

Cyrus shivered in the cool air, seeing his breath visible in front of him as TJ locked the door behind them. The wind had lessened, but it was still a chill bite on his face. Cyrus wished he had worn thicker layers - he was only wearing a thin hoodie and a t-shirt beneath his jacket - but he hadn’t exactly expected to be out so late. The warmth from inside was already fading from his clothes.

“Are you gonna be okay to get home?” He asked, as TJ came to stand by him.

“Aren’t we going the same direction?”

“Not today,” Cyrus almost pouted, “I’m staying at my mom’s tonight. She’s in the opposite direction.”

TJ’s mouth turned down at the corners, but he seemed to be trying not to frown. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

“What? Dude, no. You’re probably exhausted and I’m not making you walk across town and back.”

Now TJ really did pout, “It’s really not a hassle, Underdog.”

“Yes, it is. You probably have work tomorrow, right? You shouldn’t be out late.”

TJ’s brow furrowed even further, confirming Cyrus’ assumption.

Cyrus smiled crookedly, and jostled his shoulder, “I’ll be fine, dude. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but when I said I was gonna come down with something in the cold, I was- ” Cyrus lowers his voice conspiratorially, _“- lying.”_

TJ rolled his eyes, but Cyrus caught the twitch of his lips betraying his attempt to smother a smile. “Fine.”

Cyrus smirked for a second, before TJ turned back to him with a look.

“But, you’re gonna take this with you,” TJ started shrugging off his vest, leaving his hoodie.

“What? No way. You have further to walk than me.”

“So? I’m not the one shivering.” TJ smirked again, and Cyrus usually loved that expression but _not_ when it was being used against him.

TJ held it out, and Cyrus frowned. He looked up to TJ’s eyes, but he looked firm in this decision.

Cyrus took the vest.

He pulled it on over his own jacket, huffing.

“Thank you, TJ.”

TJ’s smile turned soft. “No problem, Underdog.”

He huffed in the cold, seeing the sky rapidly darkening around them, and turned to Cyrus, “You should get going, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Good point,” Cyrus looked up, noting the clouds that were beginning to stretch across the sky again. Cyrus nudged shoulders with TJ, and turned to leave, “I’ll see you on monday, Teej.”

TJ looked like he wasn’t sure whether he should groan or smile, instead leveling him an unimpressed look, and said, “I’ll see you then, Cyrus.”

TJ turned and walked away from Cyrus, back into the town. At the last minute, Cyrus called out, “Thank you for today and the vest, TJ!”

TJ turned to look back at him with a smile, and lifted a hand in a short wave. Cyrus smiled back, before turning and walking away, towards his mom’s house.

He liked spending time with TJ, he decided. He _really_ liked it.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, when the exhaustion from the day was catching up to him, he reached his house. Walking in through the front door, his mother called a greeting to him from the kitchen, to which he mumbled a reply.

He dragged his feet up the stairs to his room, fully intending on changing and washing his hands before dinner. Instead, he collapsed on his bed.

He dragged a hand over his face, thinking over the events of the day. Sluggishly, he pulled his phone from his pocket, and opened up the Notes app.

He smiled as he saw his list of things he couldn’t do still open after the Spoon. It seemed like he would be able to cross a few things off of there, after today.

He opened up his Facts About TJ Kippen note, thinking back on the day’s events.

He thought of how TJ’s face lit up around the kids, how there was no semblance of anger or annoyance that was often present around people their age. He thought of how the kids had been so happy to see him, how willing and ready Zoey was to tackle him, and how his reflexes had caught her safely.

_17\. TJ Kippen is good with kids._

Cyrus thought of how TJ’s ears had flushed when he called his nickname cute, of how taken aback he was when Cyrus said he thought of TJ as a good teacher, despite the fact that he tried to hide it behind an arrogant facade.

_18\. TJ Kippen gets embarrassed by compliments._

Cyrus thought back, to earlier in the day, when TJ had - completely sincerely - apologised to Time Capsule Buffy.

_19\. TJ Kippen is capable of making things right._

He thought of how hopeful and hesitant TJ had looked directly after, when he had flicked his eyes to Andi. He thought of how relieved TJ had been when she let him sit, how willing he had been to help Cyrus with his problem as soon as he learned about it.

_20\. TJ Kippen wants to fix things._

Cyrus sighed, peacefully. He liked spending time with TJ. He didn’t notice when he started falling asleep like this, fully dressed, wearing TJ’s vest. Cyrus breathed deep, sleeping in the peace that his friend left him in.


	6. #21, #22, #23, #24, #25, #26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They didn’t notice that they were still grinning, Cyrus’ feet off the floor, until he accidentally swung his leg and kicked TJ in the shin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhhhh im sorry this took so long... if you wanna know the reason, its because of a lot of things! that chapter wasnt flowing and i found it very difficult to write it more than a hundred words at a time, my focus was slipping from andi mack making it harder for me to feel motivated to write, my depression has been worse, school work has me stressed, and ive recently changed medications! i know i suck for taking so long but i love u guys and if youre still sticking around? i appreciate it!
> 
> i cant promise a quick update but i am gonna try my hardest, so bare with me! things have been hard lately and i dont think theyre gonna be better soon but im gonna try >:(9

Cyrus found himself spending more time with TJ after that.

It didn’t become uncommon for Cyrus to accompany TJ to work or spend time with him at school. Neither lingered long; Cyrus would stop off on his way past the kiddie gym and spend maybe five minutes with the kids or with TJ, and some days he would assist in pack up if it was near the end of the day. TJ would stop at Andi, Cyrus, and Jonah’s lunch table for a few short moments most days, passing him a muffin, ruffling his hair, or telling him a joke or three. Andi would usually greet him with a small, uncertain smile, and Jonah would nod tightly until he left, but it wasn’t _nothing,_ and Cyrus was happy that his friends were (kind of) getting along. 

They didn’t really hang out outside of school, TJ’s work being the exception, but on the rare occasion when Cyrus happened to be in the Shadyside Library - a cozy, two story building with couches and a few ancient computers - at the same time as TJ they would study together. 

Cyrus had never thought that TJ was anything less than smart, but based on what TJ had told him he had assumed that academic learning wasn’t his strong suit. 

This was proven wrong.

TJ was a _genius._

TJ, as Cyrus found, was brilliant when it came to English and History, both ancient and modern. He had a knack for poetry and lyrics, even rapping some of his original works to him with an excitement and passion that shocked Cyrus. Cyrus would laugh along, amazed and very much delighted when he would sing along quietly to his own words with rhythm and grace. 

He would claim that he couldn’t sing, but Cyrus would find himself humming along to a rhythm he didn’t know whenever the blonde would break out the lyrics. 

_21\. TJ Kippen is an amazing poet and lyricist._

During these times, TJ would help Cyrus with his History homework, displaying a natural memory for facts and dates and names that Cyrus could never hope to acquire even through constant practice. In return, Cyrus tried to find methods to help TJ with his maths homework, now that he was between tutors after Buffy was gone. 

He was starting to get the hang of how TJ’s mind worked in relation to math problems and be able to work with him through questions - with minor prompting when needed. 

It was fun, being able to relax and learn in an environment like this, with a boy who always managed to make him feel warm and relaxed. Funny, Cyrus pondered, just how _easy_ it was to talk to TJ, to joke with him and ramble about his interests and never feel annoying or like he was putting on a front. Completely different from how he felt in front of Jonah. It was similar to how he felt around Buffy and Andi - but rarely did they inspire such a feeling of warmth and giddiness like TJ did. 

With TJ he felt like he could talk about anything; his life, his interests, his problems, _anything,_ and TJ wouldn’t get bored or annoyed or cut him off and tell him that they had other things to worry about. It was refreshing. 

It wasn’t as if Cyrus felt that Buffy and Andi didn’t care about him, but he knew that they both had their own stuff to deal with - especially after Buffy left and it was just him and Andi and Jonah (who were always having drama).

TJ was just as good at talking as he was at listening - but Cyrus knew that TJ talked in circles and avoided anything of substance. In those informal study sessions, Cyrus would learn TJ’s favourite colour;

_22\. TJ Kippen’s favourite color is red,_

\- his favourite ice cream flavour; 

_23\. TJ Kippen’s favourite ice cream flavor is blueberry, which he mixes himself,_

\- and which three items he would save if his house ever burnt down;

_24\. TJ Kippen would save from a fire: his lava lamp he’d had since he was four, his sister’s baby blanket, and his playstation,_

\- but Cyrus still knew next to nothing substantial about TJ. 

He didn’t know what TJ’s sister’s name was, he didn’t know anything about that ‘Reed’ person he had mentioned all those nights ago, he didn’t know what TJ’s living situation was, or what his parents did or if he even had two parents. Cyrus knew that he had a mom, but he hadn’t heard anything about her since that night. 

And that was fine, if TJ wanted him to know he would tell him. If TJ was a private person, then that wasn’t anyone’s business but the boy himself. 

It wasn’t like it bothered Cyrus, not knowing. 

It wasn’t like he wanted to add something important to his TJ Facts list. 

It wasn’t like there was an itch under his skin, urging him to ask about his family, his health, his friends, his happiness, with every passing minute which he battered down every time they talked.

It was fine. Cyrus respected TJ’s boundaries and privacy. He wouldn’t ask unless it came up. 

Cyrus was perfectly fine not knowing.

* * *

As Cyrus stood, battling with his locker as students surged and flowed around him on their way to class, an excited call of “Cyrus!” came from somewhere in the hallway rush between fifth and sixth period. 

Cyrus barely had time to turn and search for the voice between the sea of people, before a hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him, with a yelp, into an empty hallway. 

His yelp turned into a confused giggle as TJ stood in front of him with an ecstatic grin on his face, paper clutched in his free hand and the other gripping Cyrus’ shoulder. Up this close Cyrus could see the spatter of freckles that were painted across the other’s nose and the indents in the bridge of his nose where his glasses had rested during class. Cyrus tried not to linger on the flecks of gold in TJ’s eyes, instead asking, “What’s all this about?”

TJ’s wild grin stretched impossibly wider, and he shoved the paper into Cyrus’ chest, who grabbed it with a questioning smile. 

TJ’s hand still a comforting weight on his shoulder, Cyrus held up the paper, and inspected it. 

Cyrus’ jaw dropped. 

He looked up at TJ, and back to the paper, and back up to TJ.

“TJ.” A smile grew on his face, _“Teej!”_

The paper proclaimed up to him a series of math questions littered with ticks and crosses where there were correct and incorrect answers. At the top of the page a large red C was written, with a smaller percentage next to it proclaiming ‘74%’.

TJ looked like he was bursting with excitement, metaphorical tail wagging as he let go of Cyrus’ shoulder to bounce on the balls of his feet. _Cute,_ was all that passed through Cyrus’ mind before he exclaimed, “You _passed!”_

Like the words flipped a switch, TJ suddenly had his arms around Cyrus and was spinning him in the air, a tight grip around his waist as Cyrus giggled euphorically. Instinctively, he wrapped his own arms around TJ’s neck as they continued to laugh together. 

That warm feeling spread through him again, making his heart race from their embrace and the air rushing through his ears. He lowered his head and giggled into TJ’s shoulder as they slowed to a stop. He could hear TJ’s breathless laugh in his ear and their arms tightened around each other. 

TJ’s arms were grounding and calming and they made his heart race like never before and he thought if he patted his own cheeks he would find a burning flush. 

They didn’t notice that they were still grinning, Cyrus’ feet off the floor, until he accidentally swung his leg and kicked TJ in the shin. 

Cyrus inhaled sharply, ready to apologise, but TJ just chuckled breathlessly and tightened his arms one more time, before gently lowering Cyrus to the ground. Cyrus barely remembered to lift his forehead from TJ’s shoulder and release his arms from arms his neck. 

He could have stood there all day, basking in his pride in the other and their shared happiness, but the second bell rang, and he still had to go to class. 

“Hah,” TJ breathed giddily, untangling his arms from Cyrus’ waist, “Oh, shi-” Cyrus smacked his arm lightly on reflex, “Oh, _whoops,_ you have class don’t you?”

“Yeah, but,” Cyrus regarded the boy in front of him, still standing close, “I don’t mind being late for something like this!”

TJ blinked and looked away, one hand coming up to rub at his neck. His ears were flushed and Cyrus smothered a smile. _Cute._

TJ cleared his throat, “Still, you should get to class. I have study hall, so I can walk you.”

Cyrus smiled and conceded, turning back into the hallway to get to his locker. The students were dwindling now, the only ones remaining were either those who were planning to be late, those who _weren’t_ planning to be late and were panicking, or those who had study hall. 

Cyrus headed for his locker, opening it with ease now that the rush had died down a bit.

TJ turned and leaned against the lockers next to him, “So, what do you have now?”

“Biology. Ms. Mitchell is always late, otherwise I would be more worried.” In truth, Cyrus was quite nervous about being late, but he didn’t tell TJ that. 

TJ hummed and nodded absentmindedly. 

Cyrus shoved the last book into his bag and gestured down the hallway. TJ hooked an arm around his shoulders as they walked, and Cyrus found comfort in the weight. It was hard not to sink into him, but Cyrus resisted. That would be weird. TJ would think it was weird. 

TJ still had an air of happiness around him, and Cyrus couldn’t help the quiet pride that grew in him towards the other boy. 

While they walked, Cyrus found himself rambling without even realising it; his mouth was spewing information about their classwork and who he was partnered with on a project and the grade he had gotten on his last report. TJ listened with a smile, fond and patient and Cyrus might’ve loved that smile. 

In the empty halls, they reached Cyrus’ class quickly and - after TJ dropped his arm from Cyrus’ shoulders - with a quick scan to ensure that _no, Ms. Mitchell wasn’t there yet, thank goodness,_ Cyrus turned back to TJ in the doorway. The rest of his class were dicking around in the room, in a routine common for this period. 

“Hey,” He tapped TJ’s shoulder lightly, fondly, “I’m proud of you.”

TJ just scoffed half heartedly and looked away, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It doesn’t have to be a ‘big deal’ for me to be proud!” Cyrus used air quotes. 

TJ just shrugged but a smile tugged at his lips. TJ’s eyes caught on a figure down the hall, and Cyrus fought to keep his gaze from lingering on his freckles while he was distracted. A beat late, Cyrus followed his gaze to see Ms. Mitchell. 

Cyrus hummed or sighed or breathed a mixture of the two and elbowed TJ lightly, “You should get going.”

The blonde turned back to him and smiled, “Yeah. I’ll see you later?”

“‘Course.”

TJ grinned and, with one last clap on Cyrus’ shoulder, turned on his heel, already striding away. Cyrus went to open the door before he stopped, looked back to TJ, and called, “I meant it, you know! I’m proud of you.”

He watched him leave, searching for a reaction, but the other just raised a hand in a wave - simultaneously friendly and brushing him off. Cyrus grinned. He would bet anything that TJ’s ears were burning in a flush. 

Ignoring his own pleased smile, Cyrus opened the door and slipped into the classroom.

* * *

The next two weeks passed in a blur. Andi, Jonah, Andi, TJ, _Jonah,_ TJ, Andi, _Buffy!!!!!,_ TJ, Buffy, Andi, Jonah, Buffy, TJ, Andi, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Andi and Buffy. 

Before he could even register the change, Buffy was back, Andi and Jonah were together for real again, TJ was amazing as always, and Cyrus Goodman no longer had a crush on Jonah. 

Cyrus was relaying this overload of information to TJ in the library - leaving out some sensitive details (Jonah) - when the idea struck. 

They were sitting across from each other in the upstairs lounge area of the library - homework strewn across the table that sat between the couches they were sitting on. Cyrus sank heavily into the cushions while he was relaying his most recent developments. TJ sat on his edge of his couch, resting his chin on one palm and listening intently. Cyrus didn’t let himself linger on how fond the look TJ sent him was. The afternoon sunlight was filtering in through the few windows and spilling across the table. The only other patrons were wandering listlessly through the shelves, and paid them no mind. 

“Wait,” He cut himself off. TJ hummed to show he was listening. “Now that Buffy’s back, maybe we can actually make up with her!”

TJ cocked an eyebrow, straightening slightly as he lifted his chin off of his palm, “Would she want to?”

He didn’t immediately dismiss the idea, so Cyrus took it as a good thing. 

“I’m not sure, but it’s worth a try? Plus, she hasn’t played with the team since she came back, right?” TJ nodded, laying his arms down on the table. The sunlight cast golden rays across his skin and Cyrus flicked his eyes back up to TJ’s. 

“Maybe you can convince her to come practice with the team?” TJ suggested. 

Cyrus turned his mouth down, “Maybe… but I doubt she would come play with you for no reason.” 

He huffed and sank even further into the cushions until he was engulfed by both his jacket and the fort he’d created for himself. The other couches weren’t using their cushions anyway. TJ had laughed at him the whole time he was collecting them, but still offered his own couches’ pillows to him. TJ was sweet like that. 

“What if I challenged her to a one-on-one?”

Cyrus frowned, “Would that help?”

“I dunno, but maybe it’ll settle our beef.”

Cyrus couldn’t see TJ’s face from his position in the cushion ocean he’d created, but he could hear the shrug in his voice and the tap of his fingers indicated he was thinking. Cyrus knew him well enough by now to recognise his traits. 

“She probably wouldn’t go for it, though. I asked her the other day, and she seemed pretty adamant on not rejoining the team.” He left out the part about TJ probably being the cause of that reluctance. He also left out where he’d called TJ cute without thinking about it. TJ didn’t need to know that. 

“Well,” TJ hummed and his fingers stopped tapping on the table. Cyrus knew that he was probably tapping his fingers against his lips instead as he thought. Cyrus heard him sink back into the couch. “We have two problems here. The first is that I want to make it right with Buffy. And the second, is that we need Buffy to rejoin the basketball team, which she won’t do because I refused to play with her,” So he _did_ know he was the reason. “I think we can solve both in one go if I play it careful. But, I’ll need your help.”

TJ sounded almost unsure to ask at the end, and so Cyrus sat up - struggling amongst the soft sea he’d created. It was like the foam pit all over again. 

Once he’d managed to resubmerge, he scoffed at TJ, “Psh, _me_ , wanting to help two of my friends stop fighting? It’s like you don’t even know me.”

TJ looked at him, one finger poised against his lips - Cyrus was right, he had been tapping - and cocked an eyebrow. 

“So..?”

“So, of course I’ll help!”

* * *

At the very least, Buffy was a good sport. Even when Cyrus interrupted too early she just accepted the challenge with a breezy, “That was a pathetic ambush.” and left to get changed. 

TJ stood at his side - as always - and nodded when Cyrus said, “This is why I wanted to rehearse.”

Once they were actually into it, the match passed in an agonisingly slow blur. Cyrus could follow along enough to know when each of them scored, but when he found his eyes following TJ in his boredom - _TJ’s moves, his little cheers, his silhouette (who let him be that tall?), his huffs of annoyance, his grins, his eyes meeting Cyrus’_ \- it ended up being easier to just curl up and close his eyes to their game.

The squeak of their sneakers and their lazy smack-talk filtered in through his ears easily without the added stimulant of sight, and he found himself belatedly following their taunts, snorting a laugh when TJ says, “LOL.” out loud. _Cute. Way too cute._

Cyrus was too busy registering that, _I really need to stop thinking straight boys are cute, it’s turning into a problem,_ that it clicks in his head a beat late that Buffy was cheering her win. 

He snaps his eyes open, sitting up and swinging his legs down. 

“You won? You _won!_ I knew you would win!”

Buffy grinned and they grabbed each other in a hug, Buffy holding Cyrus close to her cheek. 

There wasn’t really any doubt in his mind that Buffy would win, but it was still a surprise - albeit a pleasant one. It wasn’t that he could imagine Buffy losing, but more that he couldn’t imagine TJ, perfect, brilliant, handsome, effortlessly skilled TJ, losing. 

If Cyrus opened his eyes a second early, unable to stop himself from being drawn to the boy in front of him, and caught TJ in the midst of an eye roll which would seem like jealousy on anyone else - _it can’t be, it’s TJ_ \- no one has to know. No one has to know how highly he held TJ. No one has to know that Cyrus kind of wanted TJ to be jealous. No one has to know that Cyrus kind of wanted to be hugging TJ. 

“Nice game, TJ! You played _hard.”_ TJ pitched his voice like he did in the Spoon weeks ago. Cyrus can’t stop himself from thinking it’s cute. “Oh, _thank you,_ TJ.” 

When TJ looked at Buffy his smile might be bitter, but that’s not jealousy. It’s frustration at losing, _obviously._

“It really _was_ a good game.” Buffy smiled, small but genuine. Cyrus might’ve been happy. 

“First one on one I ever lost.” Definitely bitter. TJ isn’t a sore loser, though. At least, not anymore. 

“So, my beautiful,” TJ snorted at him quietly, “- If under-rehearsed plan worked!”

“What was that?” Buffy asked, brows furrowed.

“To prove that you and TJ could play basketball together! And you did. And you won!”

TJ piped up, ever prideful, “Not that _anyone_ needs to know that.” He raises his eyebrows at the two of them for good measure and Cyrus smothers an eye roll. A fond one. 

“Now, no more nonsense about not rejoining the team. You’re _definitely_ rejoining the team.”

But Buffy’s frowning and shaking her head the slightest amount, “No. I’m not.”

TJ frowned at her, “You’re just gonna quit playing basketball?” He sounded like it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard, and it probably was. 

Buffy sighed but she was smiling, “Of course not. I’m still going to _play.”_

Cyrus looked at TJ and they shared a glance. 

“I don’t get it,” said TJ.

“Is there some other team we don’t know about?” Cyrus asked.

Buffy bit her lip, “I didn’t want to say anything until it was official, but I just got permission.” She smiled, stealing the ball from out of TJ’s hands, “I’m starting a girl’s basketball team.”

TJ raised his eyebrows, turning to Cyrus on instinct. Cyrus barely noticed. 

“That’s a _brilliant_ plan,” Cyrus cocked an eyebrow (TJ was starting to influence his habits), “Which eclipses even _my_ brilliant plan.”

TJ grinned and Cyrus wondered if it’s the first time Buffy had seen him smile like that - kind and honest and not full of malice. 

“Driscoll, you got moves.” He sounded impressed and Buffy grinned in response. Cyrus was definitely happy. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

Buffy tossed the ball back to TJ, who caught it deftly despite being caught off guard. “I’m gonna go get changed; I’m exhausted from my win, after all.” She flashed a smirk at TJ who rolled his eyes in return. 

“You should savour it, Driscoll. It won’t happen again.”

She just snickered and brushed past the two, heading for the locker rooms. 

They watched her go, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder. 

When the door swings shut, TJ asks, “Is she always…?”

“So intense?” 

“She’s like a hurricane personified.”

Cyrus just hums his agreement. Buffy had that effect on people not yet used to her. And sometimes she managed to amaze even then. 

They stood there for a minute more, just standing with each other, separated at the shoulder by a layer of clothes. When Cyrus ears his eyes away from the locker room door and dares a glance at TJ, he sees him, eyes closed, breathing steadily, dozing on his feet. 

He jostled his arm, and TJ’s eyes blink open at the movement. 

TJ looks down at him in question. 

Cyrus looks back. 

“Are you tired?”

TJ breathes, glancing away for a second or a minute, but finding his way back to Cyrus’ eyes eventually. 

Cyrus doesn’t look away until TJ replies with a, “I haven’t been sleeping well. My brain just… won’t let me sleep.”

“In an anxiety way?”

TJ licks his lips. Cyrus doesn’t let his eyes track the motion. “I’m not sure. I just can’t stop thinking about things, over and over.”

“Good things or bad things?”

TJ glances across his face before resettling on Cyrus’ eyes again. Weird. 

He huffs but not at Cyrus. “I don’t know. I think it’s just everything,” he grimaces as if living it, “Maybe it’s just part of my stuff, but it’s been worse lately.”

TJ looks away properly that time, stepping away so he can bring up a hand to massage the back of his neck. Cyrus’ shoulder feels warm where they had held contact.

TJ doesn’t glance back at Cyrus, instead staring at the floor and the wall and the ceiling in succession.

Cyrus frowns in displeasure at his attempt to close himself off, and steps in front of TJ. When he doesn’t get the reaction he was looking for, he finds himself lifting a hand to close around TJ’s wrist. He doesn’t jump at the contact but it’s a close thing and Cyrus feels him tense minutely. Only then do green eyes turn back to Cyrus.

TJ twists his mouth in displeasure or uncomfort or anxiety and Cyrus just melts, his frown being replaced by a soft huff and a smile. 

“Hey,” TJ blinks at him, “You don’t have to talk about it. _But,_ next time you can’t sleep I want you to call me.”

That gets a reaction. “Wh- No way! I’m already way too -”

_“‘Way too’_ nothing! Don’t start this again, Teej.” Cyrus, still holding his wrist, tightens his grip. He resists the urge to slide his hand up to entwine their fingers. “You having trouble is not a burden.”

TJ looks ready to argue, his jaw set and brow furrowed. He opens his mouth to respond but Cyrus interrupts him before he can, _“And,_ I’m telling you now that this is my own decision and you can’t do anything to stop me.” 

“What- Cyrus, _no-”_

“I guess I’ll just be staying up all by myself then.” Cyrus smiles toothily and TJ glares at him. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you don’t know how to accept when someone cares about you and wants to help you.”

TJ opens his mouth to that, brow twitching, and makes a variety of sounds spanning from, “I-”, “Just-”, and “How-”, before he cuts himself off for good and just sighs. He throws up one hand to brush through his hair shakily. 

Cyrus becomes aware of his other arm still holding TJ’s wrist in between them. His thumb is stroking circles in the skin there without his permission. 

TJ drags his free hand down his face and says, “I need to get changed.” 

Cyrus smiles innocently and says, “I guess I’ll expect a call from you tonight, then?”

The look TJ sends him is nothing short of contemptuous but Cyrus knows he could never really mean a look like that. A second later it’s followed by an eye roll and Cyrus knows he’s right. He doesn’t stop to think about why he knows that. 

Belatedly, he drops TJ’s wrist and the taller boy moves around him without another word. In typical TJ fashion, Cyrus spots a flush burning on his ears as he heads for the locker rooms. 

He can still feel the other boy’s wrist under his fingertips when Buffy returns to him a minute later. 

_25\. TJ Kippen has soft skin._

* * *

Later that night, when he had bid Buffy farewell and walked back to his house, his phone vibrates in a call. 

Cyrus smiles at the photo like he had time and again, and doesn’t hesitate to answer. 

They talk that night, for hours - about nothing and everything and the infinity of words that span in between. Eventually they fall asleep together, with their phone clocks proclaiming the time as 1:26 AM, breathing in sync and matching smiles on their faces. One of them bumps the end call button in his sleep and Cyrus wakes up to an imprint of his charger cord in his cheek, his stiff fingers curled around his phone, and a message from TJ blinking up at him. 

Cyrus smiles and thinks, 

_26\. TJ Kippen is learning to rely on people more._

And, once he wakes up fully, clearing the sleep from his mind, if his heart beats faster than normal when he remembers how TJ had looked back at him the day before… well, no one needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love you guys and i hope you enjoyed this chapter despite how long it took!!

**Author's Note:**

> [find me on tumblr!](https://mrtheparty.tumblr.com)


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